He who is afraid of Love
by Therandomfreak
Summary: I don't allow myself to love. Those who love me suffer; it makes me feel selfish. But please let me be selfish this time. RoyxEd. Lemon.


**A/N: All righty... first story for me here! Huzzah for that, I guess *scratches head* Umm... well, I don't know where this little thing came from but... well, I felt a need to write it out. I'm not really used to writing fanfictions so don't be surprised if it's stiff or OOC. I'm not too entirely pleased with how it turned out though... on the other hand I never am. Maybe I'm just criticizing myself to much? Probably.**

**Heads up for misspellings, grammar faults and the like; it's half past eleven here and I'm quite ready to drop into bed and sleep. Also this isn't beta'd so... well, I did my best by myself.**

**And I remember how I promised myself that the first story I published would NOT contain a lemon. Well, look how that turned out. First try at a fullwritten lemon as well. Huzzah... again ^^**

**Anyway, enjoy because now I should shut up. I'm nervous like hell but I hope that there are some people out there who will enjoy it because I enjoyed writing it.**

**G'nigh everybody!**

******Warning:**** Lemon ahead of you. Don't like - don't read. Detailed description of slash sex. You have been warned.**

******Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of FMA nor the manga itself, and I don't make any money from this fanfiction.**

* * *

He who is afraid of Love

I can feel his breath in my neck. He is panting ever so slightly.

I can feel it so clearly.

It's warm. Not uncomfortable, though. It's pleasant. I like it and that scares me.

_Stop looking at me like that. Like I'm someone worthy of being loved._

My head is pressed against the cool glass of the window in the backseat of the car. My breath is fogging the reflection. I'm ashamed. When did I stop resisting? I shouldn't be doing this.

Yet it is my own gasp I hear as his hands slowly make their way down my stomach, before circling around and stopping to rest on my hips. Where his fingertips have traveled, goose bumps raise. Why am I reacting? I'm better than this. I haven't been longing for this, nor do I want it.

Is what I keep telling myself.

_I'm not worthy of being loved so stop looking so fondly at me._

"Ugh…" The small moan leaves me without permission because he who is behind me has slowly let one hand skim back up over my stomach, under the fabric of my tank, to brush over an erect nipple. I shiver and I can still feel his breathing ghost over my skin, caressing it like a forbidden sin. It feels good. It shouldn't.

_Don't love me._

* * *

Sure. I've accepted the love from certain people who keep insisting and I allow myself to love them. Alphonse. He has stayed with me during all my mistakes – even my biggest, my most horrible one – and has loved me through my entire struggle. A part of me is thankful – the other part, the masochist within me, wishes him to scream at me, hate me, leave me, like I deserve. But he never has and probably never will. He is my brother and I love him so much and he loves me right back, even after all I have done to him. He cannot cry, he cannot feel, cannot eat, nor sleep and the one who is at fault is me. I am also the only one who can bring his body back.

And I shall.

My mother. I loved her and she loved me, but she is gone and it has been many years since then. My father – as a child I loved him as well, but then he left and all I feel for him now is hatred.

Of course, Winry, Granny Pinako. I love them as well and they love me, and I am deeply grateful for all the help they give us. When Al and I left, we burned our house to the ground to make sure we wouldn't have a home to return to. But no matter how much I try telling myself otherwise, I know that Winry and Granny are our family, and that no matter if it is a day, a week, or many years, their house in Risembool will always be a home we can come back to.

Otherwise… I haven't allowed love of any kind. Love hurts me and it hurts the people who love me. I and Al, we live a difficult life and I'd rather not pull innocent people into it. Look at Hughes.

Look what happened to a man who with a warm, loving and gentle heart tried to help us.

He died.

And this is why I want to step away from love.

* * *

"Ahn…" His lips are on my neck right now. I am kneeling in the seat, facing the glass window in the car door and he is kneeling right behind me. I am stripped from the waist down already and my erection is already leaking in anticipation. He slips his fingers down to the hem of my standard black tank and when he gently squeezes the skin through the fabric I clench my hands, both flesh and metal. They are both pressed against the window next to my head – my flesh one is a bit sweaty, and when the fingers curl inward they slide easily across the smooth surface but my metal fingertips make small scratching noises. He pulls the top over my head and I cooperate by raising my arms, automail gleaming in the soft moonlight. He grumbles slightly in appreciation and continues with sucking at various places on my neck. I crane my head forward to allow him better access – I'm hardly aware that I do it.

_Why… why do you act as if I deserve your love?_

No, I don't want people to love me because people who do always suffer. So I step away – trying to put some distance between people and myself.

But I couldn't decline the love of my Colonel.

"Roy…" I whisper hoarsely as he nip gently at my shoulder.

I'm naïve, young and stupid. I may be an alchemical genius but when it comes to social interaction I'm just plain dumb. I hadn't realized that I was looking at him in long periods of time when I thought he wouldn't notice. I started to appreciate the way his raven hair fell slightly into his black, burning eyes, began to dream about running my tongue along his fine, sharp features and I liked to hear him laugh. I was to busy with claiming to hate the man that I didn't notice how I started to fall for him and suddenly all I desired was for him to look at me as if he desired me too.

So when he stopped the car at the side of the deserted, dark road, hands clenching the steering wheel nervously and looking at me with fire in those black eyes, I nearly gave in to the temptation to throw myself across the space between us and claim those soft-looking lips for my own.

* * *

I had been walking home from Central Library when he pulled up next to me. It was late, it was dark and I was far from home but after all, I don't have a car of my own so walking was my only option. I was so lost in my own thoughts I didn't even hear his BMW pull up beside me. He asked me if I needed a ride home. He acted so casually and I really didn't want him to help me and give him that satisfaction of me owing him, but as it was chilly outside… I agreed.

Barely had we covered two miles before he pulled off the road and turned of the engine.

And he spoke to me in that soft, velvety voice, eyes darker than coal fixed completely at me.

Which landed us in this position.

He spoke of loving me, of how much he wanted me, desired me and I could only listen because _I wasn't allowed to allow this._ The hope and longing I had built up during several months practically exploded within me as I understood my feelings were mutual. He looked nearly desperate and I could see panic in his eyes; panic of possibly being rejected and no matter how much I wanted to scream, no, no, NO GODDAMN IT, I couldn't bring myself to deny him. It would be denying myself and even though I'm good at making the right choices…. How could I stand against something as powerful as this?

After all, this is what I want as well.

What am I supposed to say? Ladies man of Central confessing to a seventeen year old boy and that boy was me. A young kid missing two limbs, with a troubled past and probably even more troubled future. I didn't have experience. Should I say I love him? Should I kiss him? We already have kissed of course, before Roy told me to move into the back seat, but should I sort of, turn around, grab his neck and pull his lips to mine? I'm probably not a very good kisser. Again, hell it's not like I've had any experience. But Roy… he kisses like… fuck, who knew that anything that looked so sloppy could feel so incredibly good? I was lost the moment his smooth lips began sliding against mine and when his tongue slipped through my eagerly parted lips, I nearly lost it completely.

* * *

A particularly rough bite at my shoulder brings me back to reality and I moan slightly.

Oh hell… I want more and I keen it quietly to him, begging and pushing my hips backwards towards him. I don't usually beg. Okay. I don't ever, _ever_ beg and certainly not to the Colonel. But it was he… it was he who turned me into _this._

"Edward" he breathes into my ear before sucking the earlobe into his hot, wet mouth and I hiss in pleasure at the sensation.

I don't exactly feel very submissive and I'm not the type to lay down and submit. But there's something about his voice that makes me want to squirm in anticipation. I've never heard his voice like this before; all husky, deep and filled of lust. I _want_ to obey him; I _wanted_ to cooperate when he ordered me into the backseat. Being… nearly at his mercy is thrilling and letting him talk to me in that voice sends adrenaline pumping through my veins. I want more.

So I tell him.

When he leaves my ear and bites gently into my neck I tip my head back and moan. I'm not experienced but I know that there is more to this. I _want_ it so badly that I nearly explode and I turn my head to look at him over my metal shoulder. What I see nearly drives me mad.

Roy, normally so carefree, so composed, is looking right back at me with eyes so dark I thought I'd lose myself in them. A faint flush was painted over his pale cheeks and his hair was ruffled. I had helped him out of his uniform shirt before he told me to turn around, and I moan aloud at the sight of his bare chest. Scars faint in the moonlight draw my attention. I am amazed at the complexity with which they stretch down his left side in a spidery web; a memorial from his battle with Lust, I recall with my foggy brain.

Roy Mustang looks wild and untamed and I want him now.

"Roy", I hiss, barely recognizing my voice, desperate and demanding, "_give it to me."_

He doesn't laugh, or smirk as I half expect him to do but instead the fire in his eyes burns even higher. Before I can react, he grabs my chin and yanks my head father toward him, twisting my neck painfully as he claims my possessively lips for his own.

I suck at his lips hungrily and greedily swallow the moan coming from him. I'm beginning to get the hang of this, and I turn more confident. A confidence that quickly disappears as his lips pull away and is replaced with three of his lean, pale fingers. I can guess what he's about to do and find that the thought make me unbearably hot, so I hungrily suck the fingers into my mouth. I run my tongue over the digits, roll them in my mouth and coat them with saliva and nibble lightly on the skin. He seems to enjoy it and I realize that I am as well and I whimper softly when he pulls them out of my mouth, a string of saliva following and then breaking to fall back onto my lower lip. I shiver nervously and shudder as his wet index finger trails down my spine, lower, lower, and I hiss in discomfort as it brush over my entrance.

"Gods" I choke out as the finger circles the puckered skin and the older man leans forward and whisper calming, soothing words into my ear to ease me.

"Relax", he murmurs and with that warning, slips the finger in.

My body clenches around the intrusion and I groan, letting my head fall forward to rest against the window. It doesn't hurt but it feels really uncomfortable and I force myself to heed Roy's advice and relax. Roy doesn't move his finger, allowing me to get used to the feeling and not until I nod shakily, he pulls the finger back out to let it slip back in again. His other hand he slides down my stomach, through the harsh curls and gently grabs my weeping dick.

Now I groan again but in pleasure this time. I thrust forward in an attempt to receive more of that glorious friction and he chuckles softly, making my skin burn. As he begins to pump my erection he sets a rhythmic pace, also pushing and pulling the finger in an out.

"Hah… _fuck_, Roy," I moan, when suddenly there is extra pressure at my entrance and the first finger slides in accompanied by a second. I'm about to hiss again because now it begins to hurt when suddenly I choke on a scream because those fingers just brushed over something inside of me that makes my head spin. They do it again and I do cry out this time, squirming and pushing back onto Roy's fingers, gasping. Fuck, that had felt good.

"Roy you… do, do that _again_!"

I hear him groan behind me at my husky command before he starts to thrust his fingers in and out, spreading them and again and again pushing against my prostate. At the same time he strokes my aching cock faster and I begin to pant for air as I groan, twist and alternate between pushing back and thrusting forward. The fingers stretching me feel unbearably good now; the uncomfortable burn melting away and being replaced with a friction that made my eyes roll up. He growls and press in a third finger and I gasp again.

"Fuck, Roy, yes, harder" I moan and feel how dangerous this is getting. Something is growing in the lower part of my belly, heating up quickly and my eyes widen when I can't stop myself from pushing back harder. Stars are dancing before my eyes and I choke on a sob.

"Shit, Roy, I'm gonna…" barely have I time to finish the sentence before the fingers in my ass are gone and the hand on my erection pulls back. I feel myself wobbling dangerously on the edge before gravity pulls me back into safety and I snarl in anger and loss.

"Don't worry", Roy informs from behind and I hear shuffling and the sound of a zipper being pulled down, "The best is yet to come."

I grow nervous again but he puts one reassuring hand on my left shoulder and squeezes lightly. I clench my hand to fists again and my breathing speeds up when I feel the blunt tip of his erection press against my prepared hole. I want it so badly I can hardly breathe.

He hesitates and suddenly I grow furiously impatient. With a husky moan, I set my weight on the back of my thighs, and thrust downwards-backwards swiftly, impaling myself on his dick in one motion.

His reaction is glorious and I manage to twist my head to see it just in time – raven head thrown back and lips parted in a loud moan. I myself whimper as the pain is back and it is _burning_ through me. Roy is by no means small and I shudder at the sensation of being so filled, so stretched. Once I start to get used to the feeling I realize that it feels _good_ in a way that makes me want more.

A pained hiss comes from me when Roy's cock is ground deeper into me as the older man can't stop the roll of his hips.

"Sorry", he pants, leaning his head forward resting it against my metal shoulder. "Shit, Ed… you're _tight_" the sentence ends with a growl from Roy and I hear how he sucks on a metal joint. "You're so fu00cking beautiful" he adds in a murmur and I blush. I reach one hand behind me, slipping it into raven hair and pull my one love closer.

"Move, fucking _please_, Roy" I beg and he does.

The first few thrusts make my teeth clench in discomfort but when I shuffle just a little he hits my prostate dead-on and I scream in pleasure. He is panting against my ear and I can feel his pleased smirk as he, now knowing where to aim, plunges deep within me. He thrusts into me harder as I begin to vocalize louder and thrust back at him, one hand placed on the vehicle window for support and the other pulling Roy's head over my shoulder for the sake of contact. His chest is hot against my back. My hips are thrown towards the car's door for every forward motion Roy does and I meet him halfway when he shoves his way inside me again. Blood is searing in my veins and I feel my cock pulsing in anticipation.

"Ah, uh, gods, holy FUCK Roy, yes there, faster, oh, AHH, SHIT!" The sounds coming out of my mouth are unstoppable as I thrash in pleasure. Roy keeps slamming into me, mercilessly abusing my prostate. My head is swimming in pleasure, hazy from the lack of oxygen since I, between the moans, somehow forget to breathe. I draw a stuttering breath just to throw the air right back out in a loud howl as Roy's fingers close around my erection.

I can't hold on any longer, shit, I'm going to explode and I try telling Roy this but I can't find the words. I can't find a single word. I can't even remember how to talk. It's pathetic how I've lost my composure. But it seems as if Roy doesn't need my words because he just tightens his grip around my pulsing dick and growls in my ear:

"Do it, Ed, let me hear you."

And I break.

Pleasure mixed with punishing agony swirls through me as I soak my chest and Roy's hand with the evidence of my violent release. Roy slams into me one last time and then he, with a wordless cry, joins me. Fire is still burning in my veins as he fills me and I shake before falling forward into the door. I barely notice as my head slams into the glass. I am still panting heavily, trying to catch my breath. I notice when Roy slowly pulls out – yup, that is going to be sore for a while. I wince when he pulls me backwards with him as he settles down on his back. I turn around so I face him before I allow my body to settle over his. I rest my head against his chest and feel how he breathes.

It feels so good just to relax like this.

Roy is stroking my hair slowly and I hum in appreciation, breathing through my nose while my eyes remains closed.

Peaceful…

So peaceful.

"Edward… I love you", he whisper into the dark of the car.

What should I answer?

Should I say I love him?

Should I kiss him?

What does he expect?

…what will I feel tomorrow?

I'm afraid to love. I feel selfish when I do, as if I'm taking advantage of people. People who love me suffer.

Please… please, anyone, could I be selfish just this once?

Just this once?

I love him so much.

Please.

"Roy."

Heartbeat.

Breath.

Heartbeat.

"…I love you too."

End

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**...Review... pretty please? ^-^**


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